


Oh, How Easily Men Fall From Grace

by Arikethtae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 02:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16420799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arikethtae/pseuds/Arikethtae
Summary: In which Harry Potter's life had never truly began, until it was sacrificed for petty greed. Death is a small price to pay for eternal love. After all, what's a little bloodshed between lovers?





	1. A Forsaken Whisper in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VanillaGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanillaGhost/gifts).



> Warnings:  
> Minor offscreen character death, near death experiences, unwilling sacrifices, corrupted innocence, and thinly veiled religious overtones.
> 
> Betas/Editors:  
> I_Read_Fics_Not_Tragedies, and alexicyn
> 
> Thank you both from the bottom of my stressed heart ❤️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry Potter rethinks his entire life choices and decides that he is the world's biggest fool.

He was forced to recollect on how he came to be here, his desperation and foolish need to be a part of something more than solitude. How he ached to know friendship, companionship, love. Now look at him, strapped to an altar and about to die knowing none of that, save his gullibility, had been real.

It had all seemed so innocent. Harry had been oddly flattered when he'd been offered a position with Theodore Nott's acquaintances. The other boy was the youngest son of a middle ranking nobility. Nott's blood might be purer than gold but it still flowed in the veins of someone deemed startlingly insignificant. They had bonded over that—falsely it seemed. They both meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, Harry was less so. He was nobody, an orphan with an ancient name but no claim on a legacy.

Everyone pitied him, the supposed heir to an ancient family but no definite way to lay a claim. His mother's family, as questionable as their lineage might be, had refused to take him in after the murder of his family. Since his father had rescinded his title in order to marry his mother, Harry technically had no claim on the title of Lord Potter. While he did not resent his father for his dedication to his love, he wished there could have been another way. In a world steeped in manipulations and power struggles, he had no one. In their world, no one allied themselves with someone that had nothing to offer.

That wasn't saying that he didn't have friends. No, Harry just didn't belong anywhere. His bloodline allowed him contact with noble houses, just not the ability to belong to one. That bittersweet luxury permitted him contact with many of his "brethren," otherwise known as the Sacred Twenty-Eight, even if his father's disgrace had purged them from the brotherhood.

He might prefer the Weasleys, but somehow he always ended up falling in line with the likes of Theodore and others like him. The Weasleys were kind, generous folk, but they too stood on the fringe and life was easier when you associated with those of influence.

Which once more, lead him, ever the fool, here. All it had taken were soft spoken words, a new sense of companionship, and everything Harry had thought he'd known had been torn asunder.

Needless to say, Harry had been swept away by the grandeur and quiet elegance he'd been allowed to glimpse, but never partake in. Theodore had been markedly kind and thoughtful. There had been lavish but practical gifts, but the true gift had been acceptance. The wonders Harry had learned; of magic, and immortality, of deals with demons signed with blood. It was that knowledge that drew Harry like a flame, his curiosity rampant and without end.

Then the offer came. Theodore had played him like a fool. He pitted Harry's gratitude and curiosity against his common sense. Of course, if he truly possessed common sense he imagined it would have protested long before the midnight hour begged its due.

A simple ritual, a small offering and a deal with the devil. Theodore needed one pure of heart, magic, and virtue. Apparently, the demon in question had a preference for fair maidens and men of honor. That should have been his first clue that something was amiss.

Harry was no maiden, but he was untouched and far too trusting. He was reminded of this as he sensed Theodore and his followers moving to surround him. The whisper of their robes trailing against the floor making him shudder; he'd never felt so sensitive or alert in his life.

Their voices were perfectly synchronized, softly chanted Latin binding together in a thunderous call that chilled Harry's bones. The air was disappearing from his lungs, the blood pounding in his veins becoming one with the magic surging through the air. He was blind to the world, cloth he'd once admired tying his wrists above his head and forcing his eyes shut.

It was as if time had frozen. He could feel them transcribe symbols onto his skin, but he could do nothing to prevent their molestation. He tried, his body twisting in a futile attempt to disrupt their attempt at branding him their sacrifice.

But there was no use, they were experienced. His ignorance was not preventing him from understanding that his life was to be forfeit for another's ambitions. Oh, what poetic justice. He, who had never wished for advancement, only honest relations.

The Gods always pitied the fool, and Harry had turned out to be the ultimate fool. Their world had been shaped by fools like him. Under Theodore's tutelage, he had learned everything came with a price. That price was the hopes, dreams, and lifeblood of those like him: the nameless, the unloved, the nobodies. Sure, he flitted from noble house to noble house as needed, but he was never allowed more than a glimpse into the life he should've lived. The riches and the power did not interest him, but he longed for that sense of belonging to something greater than just himself.

He did not yearn for the prestige of what the House of Potter would have allotted him, but for the connection to his family, his history. All he knew was word of mouth, and look where that had gotten him. Harry Potter was going to be a sacrificial lamb. He would pray to the Gods, but in all honesty, there was a large part of him that thought perhaps he deserved this.

His own inaction had brought this upon himself. His own wavering moral ambiguity had contributed to his soon to be sacrifice. Theodore had never hidden his true self, but exposed it slowly with the practiced ease of an experienced seductor. How many other fools had been captured by silver-tipped words and bittersweet promises? Perhaps this was his penance for ignoring Theodore's lust for power and blood, his designations above his station.

However, he'd considered it not his place. He possessed no title and therefore he was voiceless. Harry Potter held no authority or place in the world. He'd let his discomfort fester in favor of Theodore's attentions. Maybe he did foster some resentment after all; it would explain how quickly he fell under Theodore's spell. If only _it_ had been a spell and not Harry's ego.

Now it was time to suffer the consequences of his inaction. Harry could sense the moment reality bent; the chanting had worked, something else was present in the chamber with them—something more. Harry had never encountered something so ethereal and compelling in his life. It curled around him, soft tendrils of power caressing his bare skin. It felt almost like a lover's. Or what he imagined a lover would feel like. Suddenly his skin felt too warm, his back arching as a scream broke free. 


	2. Betrayal Be Thy Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry realizes it doesn't matter what is promised, unless you get it in writing.

The air was heavy and Harry trembled beneath it. Fear was a familiar friend that traced idle fingers down his spine. Its path too mocking to be the playful caress of a lover and Harry rebelled against his bonds. Lithe body twisting under a sudden impression that the life as he knew it was too be altered beyond recognition.

Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes as cruel laughter mocked him. How could he have ever been convinced that Theodore was kind? Harry had heard that very laugh more than a dozen times; how could he have heard that sound and believed it was anything other than a callous deception? The mere sound of it now was like a knife between his ribs.

His tears began to fall as emotion washed over him. He found himself having so many regrets. Why had he not tried to live more? Why had he not tried to do more than just hover at the edge of the society he belonged to? Despite the consequence of his birth, his life should mean more than this. The blood in his veins held such a rich history, soon to be lost to time because of his own foolish fantasies. He could have had a good life, but now it was all for naught.

He could feel Theodore move closer, he could smell the man's preferred scent. It was thick and ostentatious; it practically suffocated him. In response, Harry's attempts to get free doubled. The ropes digging painfully into his skin with every yank. 

"There is no use fighting it Harry, you're a part of a greater cause now. Isn't that what you always wanted? Your sacrifice will be the perfect offering to achieve my goal. You might not have been meant for greatness, but I am and I intend to take my place amongst the Highest Order. With thee blood shed, I shall possess more power than any of them and all thanks to you my friend." 

Theodore's voice was derisive as he dragged a knife up Harry's stomach. "Can you feel that? He's coming, and soon I'll rule everything." 

"You, you can't do this!" 

The other noble-born laughed, "I think you'll find I can. After all, you're nobody and the beauty of it all, is that no one will even notice you're missing. That's why I picked you or did you think I actually liked you?"

To that Harry had no rebut. Not one word of what Theodore had spoken was untrue. There was no one that would be looking for him, no one to care that he would never come back again. His tears returned, but this time his cries were silent. He was resigned to his fate and he couldn't find it in himself to offer Theodore the satisfaction of hearing how beaten he truly was.

As the knife dug firmer into his flesh, Harry gritted his teeth. For a moment, he was allowed a brief reprieve, the pressure against his abdomen disappearing in a flurry of wind that could only mean one thing. Death beckoned. 

But it never came. 

A voice rang out and time froze, "Why have you summoned me?" It was deep, almost like an ancient siren song that beckoned all listeners to heed its call. Every word reverberated through Harry's bones. If there was a God out there offering him their favor, the voice did not belong to them. This was voice of promise and condemnation, not of inspiration and protection.

It became even clearer to him as Theodore began to converse with the mysterious voice. "I have an offering for you, a sacrifice who remains untouched of flesh and virtue as your doctrine decrees." 

Harry's stomach flipped in distaste as he realized the exact reason he had been chosen. It wasn't just because he could disappear unnoticed but because he was a virgin, untouched by man and magic. It was just his luck, his normal sexual undesirability had offered him up as a lamb for the slaughter. 

While he laid there, cursing everything about his miserable existence he tried to focus on the conversation going on above his head. 

"I find myself not tempted by your offering. While your selected morsel is a pristine sacrifice, I find myself wanting something else. Something that only you can offer me."

The mysterious voice's counter statement made Harry conflicted; didn't know whether to be flattered or horrified. Not that it mattered much while he was strapped to an alter ready to murdered for some aimless cause. On one hand he was glad that he was recognized as the ideal sacrifice, on the other he was enraged by the fact that he was going to be sacrificed. 

"What can I offer you that would surpass a virgin?"

Was that a tremor of fear in Theodore's voice? 

Harry never had the chance to ponder what could frighten Theodore, because the voice answered his unspoken question. 

The voice spoke, "The blood of you and yours," and then there were screams. It wasn't just Theodore's, it was his fellows. They were all screaming and then there was only silence.

His skin crawling he turned his head, trying to hear something—anything. 

There.

There was a whisper, soft steps coming closer. Harry wanted to scream but nothing came out. He was blind, vulnerable, and tied to an altar. Something had disposed of Theodore and his companions, and he was convinced that he would soon follow.

That was until he felt the ropes vanishing from his body. With trembling fingers he pushed his blindfold off, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the light. 

There was a man before him, yet despite the human appearance, Harry knew instinctively that this was the entity that Theodore had tried to bargain with. The being before him was taller and slender, skin like polished porcelain. There was an aura of danger about the owner of the mysterious voice. It saturated him, it, making the newcomer impossible to ignore.

How could something so beautiful be so dangerous? Harry had no doubts that Theodore and his fellow believers were dead. There might be no physical evidence left behind of the slaughter but that exposed more than if there had been bodies left behind. Whoever this was, they were powerful and they would not hesitate to turn on him if the need (or desire) arose.

Somehow Harry found the ability to stand up, albeit unsteadily. As he struggled to find his balance, their eyes met. He had never seen such an alluring and aphasic eye color. This was a being that he had only heard of in whispers.

"You're a demon," he whispered, a shiver of something he could not name running down his spine. The longer he stared, the less afraid he became.


	3. The World at Your Fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry realizes, life doesn't end with Death, it begins.

The demon stared at him, his head tilting in curiosity and Harry found himself trembling. However, it wasn’t fear coursing through him. His lips parting as oxygen escaped him.

Their eyes met once more and Harry couldn’t stop himself from gasping. Where there once was brown, molten lava took its place. An endless fire burned before him, calling to him and he fell. His soul screaming for sins he’d never committed. There was nothing to confess, nothing to be condemned for.

The demon smiled, wide and possessive. “So pure, and ready for the taking. Not many have faced so much temptation and given so little. You’re a strange one Harry Potter, an enigma I intend to tarnish. You want so much but have never allowed yourself to chase after your dreams.

“I am all that was, all that is and all that will be. By my side you could be my king and nothing will touch you: not time, nor others. All I ask is for you to give yourself freely and willingly, and everything you ask will be returned.”

Harry's tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, desperate for some semblance of sanity. He felt himself teetering on the brink of some monumental precipice. There was a choice to be made, a deal with a devil not yet signed. Theodore's offering had been rejected but still the demon remained. Why would his be considered worthy?

"Why me? Why not accept Theodore's offer? I just don't understand any of this."

The demon vanished, smoke starting from his feet and spreading upwards until he was completely engulfed. Harry turned, trying to find the spirit. It was if he (if _it_ truly was a he) had never existed. The sudden stillness made him uneasy, while he might be unafraid he was still on edge. The unnaturalness of this entire affair made all the hair on his body stand on edge.

"I always have a choice in what deals I can take. Every time a sacrifice is chosen and every time a deal is brokered, I get a glimpse of what is and what will be. There are always two paths for the taking, and I chose the more lucrative, the most enticing—that's you Harry Potter. A nobody, abandoned by all that should have protected him. I can offer you a solution to all that ails you. Tell me, are you tempted child? For too long you've stood firm while others have wavered. Maybe its time you gave in."

The voice came like liquid fire, warm and tempting. Harry could feel breath tickling the back of his neck. The way the air suddenly grew heavy, there was a pressure against his spine almost as if the demon was leaning against him. But when he turned, there was nobody.

A frown crossed his face; he did not enjoy being played with and he told the demon as much, to its amusement. "Who are you? Do you even have a name?"

"I go by many names. Your friend knew me as Voldemort. But you, you can call me Tom. Now, I believe you owe me an answer. Are you going to accept my offer? Your deepest desire for your forever?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know what I want, so how would it be a fair trade?"

His response was only met with more laughter, "Of course you do. You've known it your whole life. It's the thing you never could bring yourself to admit to anyone other than yourself. It's how you came to be here, why Theodore was able to convince you to summon me. Or have you forgotten?"

Harry couldn't help but groan in response. His face reddened as he tried to control his breathing. "I don't want to be alone," his voice no more than a whisper.

The response was almost instant. Tom pressed against his back, an arm looping around his waist as he was pulled backwards. The demon's hand was ridiculously hot against his skin, its fingertips brushing against the boy's exposed hipbone. "I have the power to make that possible. You'd never be alone again."

Harry couldn't think. Every word dripped across his skin like honey, tempting him with heated promise. He could see how Tom was dangerous, why Theodore had wanted him on his side. Binding a demon like that to your cause was to ensure success in all ventures. A soul seemed almost too small a price to pay for an advantage like that.

All of his thoughts were warping, running into each other in a heated mess. His mouth opening and closing as he tried to articulate what was going through his mind. “And if I want you?” Harry flushed, embarrassment clear across his cheekbones. He had no idea what had come over him. But the desire was there, burning him from the inside out. There was a need to reach out and touch, to claim and be claimed. For once more in his life, he wanted—he craved. Everything inside him was desperate, his fingers trembling as he forced himself to hold back. "Is—is this a spell?" His voice was quiet, timid in the face of this sudden rush of hunger.

Tom laughed, "I have no need for spells. All I need is one look and I can see everything about you. You felt it, the moment our eyes locked. I can see your hopes, dreams, every sin you've ever committed. Spells are for men who are searching for whatever they lack. I may lack a permanent fixture on this plane but I do not need assistance to get what I need. A blood sacrifice has already been made, now all I need is a one of the flesh. I can sense your desire, stop resisting."

"I still don't understand, why me?"

"Because I could almost taste your need. When Theodore summoned me, I knew you were untouched and pure of heart. My powers work best if someone possess such purity as you do. That's the beauty of innocence, curiosity always bends it to its will and that's all I need. Temptation corrupts innocence and I feed on its destruction. There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it. Theodore was too weak, already corrupted by his own greed and his quest for recognition. You, on the other hand, you have more potential inside you than you realize and I plan to harness it. You're the key to everything, the world is at your fingertips." 

With every word, his hand slipped lower. The tips of his fingers pushing beneath Harry's pant line. "I can give you the world or I can burn it. Whatever you so desire, all you have to do is ask. Your flesh will bind the deal, as Theodore's blood has laid the foundation. Shall we seal it with a kiss?"

Harry felt himself being turned, Tom's hands tugging insistently at his waist. Their groins pressed against each other, forcing a moan from his throat as he felt a hardness rubbing against his cock. A gasp escaping as he realized exactly what the demon wanted. Him. In all sense of the word, body and soul. It should be repulsive, he should fight back and refuse the deal but he couldn't. He found himself melting into the demon's embrace, his hands moving on their own accord to dig blunt nails into broad shoulders. 

His trembling only increased as he tried to think clearly but he didn't want to. He could hear Tom whispering to him, telling him to give in and accept the deal. He could barely hear him, it, over the pounding in his ears. Yet he found himself pushing closer, his head nodding his consent.

He lost all sense of time and purpose as their lips meet. A muffled moan escaping as he let himself be seduced. A hand twisted in his hair, pulling his head back so Tom's mouth could slide lower. He could feel himself hardening with every nip and suck the demon laved against his skin, bruises forming under Tom's careful attention. 

That otherworldly pressure was back, surrounding them, binding them together. A deal was a deal. His soul for his desire. It should terrify him, but there was nothing but a sense of assuredness. He wanted this, more than anything, and for once he was going to get what he wanted. A soul was such an easy price to pay.

"Please—" he whimpered. His hands scrambling to get Tom closer. He needed more; after a lifetime of being alone, he wanted to be a part of something greater. He wanted to belong and here was his chance.

Tom's hands slid down, pushing his pants down narrow hips. The soft material hit the floor and Harry found himself being driven backwards. A fur throw, covering the altar that he had been previously tied to. Despite what he would have thought, the demon treated him like finely woven glass as he was lowered to the ground. His back hitting the fur with a soft thud, his legs parting automatically to make room for the demon. 

He couldn't help the sounds he made as Tom touched him. His legs parting further as Tom traced idle patterns over his thighs. Green eyes squeezing shut as he tried to banish his nerves. "You're so warm," he whispered, twisting his body to try to bring them closer; however, the demon only teased him, each touch lighter than the last.

"I'm the devil sweetheart, what did you expect? Someone cold-blooded? I'm a creature of fire and damnation." Tom responded, his hand curling around Harry's burgeoning erection. 

All semblance of coherence disappeared as the demon's hand slowly stroked him. His hips lurching upwards to get more friction. An amused chuckle answering his desperation but Tom sped up his ministrations until Harry was left gasping. His fingernails catching against conjured fur as he struggled to contain himself. But he couldn't, not with every dirty little thing whispered in his ear, "I've never seen such beauty, you're so responsive for me. I can't wait to make you scream my name when I sink into you. You're going to be so tight and hot around me. I can tell."

The demon's voice was smooth like silk, and Harry couldn't help but react to its allure. He could feel a pressure building in the pit of his stomach. His hips lifting with more fervor as his desire ran hotter, need clear in every tremble of his limbs. A cry breaking free as Tom's hand disappeared; his hands reaching for the demon to pull him closer. Only for Tom to scold him, the ropes previously abandoned on the floor, tightening around his wrists and yanking his arms over his head.

The position was familiar as the cloth twisted around his body. This time, it was as if the rope had been extended as it slid over his stomach to wrap around his thighs, successfully holding him pinned in place. This time there was no fear as he was bound, only arousal. He could still see and it served only to turn him on as he watched Tom observe him. His trembling getting worse as the demon continued to stare intently at him. 

It was as if they had come full circle; he had started the evening bound and in a state of undress and now he was to end it as such. And he had never felt so alive as he lay there at Tom's mercy. Before there had been nothing but regret, but now only hope remained. 

Harry was launched out of his musings as a finger traced his asshole, slick with some unknown substance that grew warm with every caress. His eyes fluttering shut as he tried to regulate his breathing but it was no use; air reluctantly escaped his lungs in sharp stabbing breaths. Tom was testing him, dragging blunt fingernails over the tight ring of muscle. Every touch causing him to shudder, muscles straining against his binds. 

He couldn't stop swiveling his hips, trying to get more pressure. Innocent he might be, but he was certain that there had to be something more for him to be deflowered and he craved that relief. Tom had started a fire within him and he was in dire need of some relief. He was desperate for more of what the demon was offering. He wanted to feel Tom's cock inside him, ruining him for anyone else. After all, who could compare to the devil incarnate? Who else could give such ethereal pleasure than one built from sin and decadent indulgence?

"T-Tom, please—I-I need..." 

A sadistic smile curved the demon's lips, and he shook his head, "You're not in charge dearest, I am. I know everything you need, and all will be given in good time. Now just lie there and look pretty for me." 

Harry would have protested but Tom had leaned over and captured one nipple in his teeth. His tongue flicking over the small nub as one finger slid inside. His mouth falling open as he was torn between a hollow protest and expressing his enjoyment. His attention wavering between the small thrusting motions Tom's finger made as it was pressed deeper and the wet heat tormenting his nipple. 

The demon moved to his other nipple, his free hand rubbing against the sensitive nub he had just abandoned. Despite the pleasure originating from his chest, all of Harry's attention was focused on the finger slowly taking him apart. The flush on his cheeks spreading down his neck to paint his chest a lovely rose hue. 

Despite the sudden violation, he had never felt so cared for. Tom's finger twisting until it nudged softly against his prostate. A bolt of pleasure spearing through him as the demon teased him until he was crying out for more. 

Logic and emotion warred inside him as he was swept asunder a rush of conflicting emotion. While his deflowering served to solidify their pact and provide Tom with a permanent corporeal form, the gentleness in the demon's touch made him feel things he'd never considered himself worthy of. A sense of belonging and love filled his chest, forcing him to surrender completely. Any lingering doubts escaping him as he lost himself in Tom's touch.

Harry Potter never thought sinning could feel so good - so right. If he'd known his path of righteousness would lead him here, he would have found himself under Theodore's spell a lot sooner. His previous foolishness was a blessing in disguise because as another finger worked him open, he swore he would do anything to feel this again. He would do anything Tom wanted to keep feeling this cherished and fulfilled. As promised, he was owned body and soul.

Consequently he couldn't stop begging, he wanted more. He could recall with startlingly clarity the thick girth that had pressed against him earlier. But like the evil creature he was, Tom refused to give into him. There was no doubting who was in charge, the demon dominated every aspect of Harry's life and body in that instant. Yet still Harry tried to sway Tom into fulfilling his promise - to no avail. 

His body was an adored instrument, and Tom played it with phenomenal precision. Every touch driving him higher until he was lost, his body reacting wantonly as he was impelled into orgasmic bliss. His cock hard and aching as precum pooled over his belly. It was as if time was frozen, the air heavy as his lungs struggled to function. His eyes squeezing shut as his body exploded, his essence spilling over his taut stomach. His toes curling as Tom continued to caress him.

And still Tom gave him no relief, even as he offered half-hearted whine as he was overstimulated. Despite the sudden sensitivity he was experiencing, he couldn't bring himself to resist. He offered no further protest as he was shushed. His eyelashes fluttering demurely as he rode his pleasure out. His hips undulating languidly between the luxurious material beneath him and the warm body above him. 

"Open your eyes, I want you to watch me, as I ruin you," was the only warning he got as the demon slid inside him; a broken sound breaking free as he was suddenly filled. Where Tom's fingers had be slow and thorough in their preparation, his actual penetration was straight and to the point. Tom didn't stop rocking until his entire cock was sheathed, his balls slapping embarrassingly against Harry's ass. 

Instead of waiting for Harry to adjust, the demon continued thrusting. Each drag of his cock hitting the small bundle of nerves that wrecked Harry. 

Soft sobs escaping as his body strained to accommodate this new experience. Everything was so intense, it overwhelmed him. Every sensation was like a tsunami crashing over him. His back arching violently as Tom sped up. Fingernails sharpening as they dug into his hips, small pinpricks of blood dotting his skin. 

Tom's cock alone was a magnificent masterpiece that stretched him beyond what should be humanly possible. The thick length pushing deeper than he would have thought possible. Every stroke making him cry out Tom's name as his vision blurred. There was nothing he could do but lie back and take everything given to him. The ropes binding him seemed to tighten as Tom slammed into him. His mouth opening as he air grew harder to bring into his lungs; his cock jerking pathetically as another orgasm was coerced out of him. 

It was all too much for him. Harry could dimly hear Tom's whispered praises as darkness gathered, swallowing him tenderly. 

When he came to, all that remained of his bondage were faint lines discoloring his skin. A warm body pressing against him, an arm thrown over his waist. There was an ache in his lower back, and a tell-tale wetness between his thighs. A newfound soreness creeping over him, but dulled by the presence of the one who caused it. 

It might not be love, was Tom even capable of love? Did it matter? Harry would never be alone again. The pact was complete. And call him naive but there was something else behind the way Tom's fingers curved around his hip. The demon's grip was secure, almost avaricious in its restraint.

There were so many questions clawing their way towards his throat. Nonetheless, the words died quickly as lips traced over the back of his neck as if their owner had sensed the growing confusion within him. Tom's voice was velvety and soothing to his nerves as he broke the silence, "Speak up dearest, I shall entertain any questions you have. I can hear them forming a dark cloud for a glorious occasion. I would have expected more lax gratification instead of tumultuous emotion."

Harry sighed, frowning slightly, "I just don't know what's next. You've offered me the world but what if it's not enough? What if I'm not enough?"

There was a slight tremble to his voice, partially due to the kisses his companion was pressing against his neck. Except like every time before, Tom had all the right answers. His hand helping to sooth his worries with every gentle stroke against his heated skin. "Shush, just relax. I promised you, you'd never again be alone," was all he could make out before sleep pulled him under once more, "How could you not be enough? The moment I saw you, I knew my future was with you and I'll have all eternity to prove it to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not claim ownership of the line, “There is no good or evil, only power and those too weak to seek it.“ All rights and credit belong to JK Rowling and Warner Brothers.


	4. Until the World Burns No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry recollects just how far he's come and what it means for the rest of the world.

It seemed like forever ago, he had sold his soul to Tom and yet his life had only flourished. There was a sudden brightness to the world, and contentment that he'd never considered a reality for the likes of him. However, the more he fell under Tom's spell, the more he realized he possessed more power than any Potter before him. He may have sacrificed virtue and good in favor of more sinful pursuits, but life had never been so peaceful. 

No longer was he nobody; he was both worshiped and worshipper. His life was a never-ending cycle of satisfaction and fulfillment. His nights, and even days, were filled with salacious encounters. His psyche blossoming beneath Tom’s attentions. Tom was possessive and demanding, but it never chafed. He’d spent his whole life unwanted and unobserved, and now he was anything but.

There wasn’t a moment when Tom wasn't focused on him or demanding his attention. Even as his partner pursued his own goals and desires, all it took was a coy glance and and playful tease and Harry found himself pinned against the nearest surface. Privately or with an audience, it did not matter to either of them. 

So much had changed in such a short span of time. Where once he had wavered, unsure and pitiful under societal judgement, now Harry stood proud. Refusing to bend down for anyone other than Tom. Not that Tom made him bend beneath his will, unless Harry requested it. Tom was everything he had never known he needed; he'd found the power to stand on his own two feet and Tom encouraged him. They were equals in a dance that only they were consumed by.

Tom had goals, ones that demanded a partner more in touch with the mortal world. Tom was a seductor, a powerful ally who offered a means to the end, but he didn't always glimpse the full scope of his victim’s character. Sure, Tom could glimpse into the future and determine how lucrative the business arrangement could be but he wasn't always the best at determining whether the potential associate was worth what the deal entailed. That's where Harry came in.

He had spent his whole life skating by, observing everyone under their petty assumption of his insignificance, and sometimes he had to remind Tom of that. His lover might be all-powerful and cunning, but on rare occasion he had to be reminded that people weren't chess pieces. Some of the most easily manipulated individuals might be controlled by their corruption, but that didn't mean they were the perfect fit to a grander scheme. It was just a matter of convincing his counterpart that he was chasing the wrong sort of follower.

Which is what led to their current discourse, Tom was of the mind that the Malfoy family was a necessary asset to his plan. Harry believed that the Malfoys were the wrong sort; in fact he was a hundred percent certain that bringing the Malfoys into the fold would be detrimental to their plans. Tom, however, could only focus on the ease of corruptibility.

Honestly, despite being all transcendent and otherworldly, Tom was rather nearsighted in his reasoning. "Power isn't everything Tom. It might give you something to manipulate, but someone who fights without cause isn't someone who can be dependable to stick around if things don't go as planned. You need to stop operating under the assumption that the extent of their reach is a greater motivator than their effectiveness."

Tom was sulking, his mouth twisted in a grimace as he considered Harry with moody reproach. "You're missing the bigger picture dearest, he has the potential to amass a greater force for us. His thirst for power could be an asset for our cause."

"Ridiculous, do you remember Theodore? He had a thirst for power and you killed him." Harry countered, pursing his lips to suppress a grin.

"I killed him for you! Or do you not remember that little detail? Plus, Malfoy is in a different category than Theodore. Theodore was a fool, with no money and no associates of worth. The Malfoys have that and more. Lucius Malfoy is a worthy opponent and perhaps a greater accomplice."

Harry on the other hand merely rolled his eyes and continued his argument, “No. He is weak and arrogant. If you want an army of believers, you need loyalty not power. You can’t buy loyalty, it has to be freely given.”

“Then who would you suggest, dearest?”

“The Weasleys are lower nobility. They have four sons who might hold promise: the older two and the twins. Three dabble with alchemy, one with dragons. They would be powerful allies, and loyal if you give them to means to explore their crafts. The youngest son also has a marriage contract to a line thought long dead, yet his betrothed wishes to be free. She would be very grateful to have their arrangement terminated.”

“I see. And you think we could sway them to our side?”

“Yes, the most loyal are the ones who think they have nothing of importance to offer to the table. The loneliest would die for who they consider theirs. After all, isn’t that how you got me? You offered me everything I ever wanted and more, and I remain eternal grateful—as will they.” Harry murmured, his voice husky and he slid into his lover’s lap. His body brushing teasingly against Tom’s as he pressed closer, lips parting in silent offering. 

“I stand corrected. Perhaps I need to take a different approach after all. Are you up for the task dearest?”

Harry smiled, responding softly just before their lips met in heady embrace,“ _Always._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this fic, I was really inspired by my prompt and I hoped I checked all the right boxes. This experience was very nerve wracking for me especially considering how much of a fan I am of VanillaGhost. 
> 
> I hope I did it justice, and you enjoyed it as much as I cried writing it (:
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts, so don't be shy :D
> 
> Cheers,  
> Ari~
> 
> PS. Sorry for the wonky chapter sizes. I liked my titles too much and it was a smoother break I found. Heh. I should work on that.


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